


Drugs Don't Work (But You Do)

by Ionaonie



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Girl!Stiles, Mindless Fluff, always a girl!Stiles, fluffiest of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-28
Updated: 2013-12-28
Packaged: 2018-01-06 11:39:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1106381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ionaonie/pseuds/Ionaonie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles hates being on her period. Hates it. </p>
<p>Derek makes it marginally better. </p>
<p>Well, maybe more than marginally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drugs Don't Work (But You Do)

**Author's Note:**

> I have no excuse for this, other than I felt absolutely horrible one month and this is what I wrote to make myself feel better. 
> 
> I started it back before Harris died, so I elected to keep him in.
> 
> This is in no way connected to my other girl!Stiles fic. I can't believe I can use the phrase 'other girl!Stiles fic'.

Arm wrapped around her stomach, Stiles groaned as the bed dipped and knocked her out of the comfortable position she’d just spent the last fifteen minutes fidgeting to find. It was a big bed and it shouldn’t have been so difficult to find a comfy position, but her skin would go from feeling too hot to feeling too cold and when one ache faded another would take its place. She twisted to look over her shoulder and saw Derek sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand hovering over her hip, like he wasn't sure of his welcome.

Which was fair. Unless she caught the pain at exactly the right time and downed a pharmacy’s worth of ibuprofen, period pain made her so much more crankier than the regular life or death kind of pain. 

'Harris wouldn't let me out of chem to get any painkillers from my locker,' she told him, not bothering to hide her smile at the low growl he emitted. Senior year and Harris hated her just as much now as he always had. Maybe more, if his delight at her pain was any indication. 

Right out of school she’d driven round to Derek’s apartment, just about managing not to curl up and die at every set of traffic lights. It was closer than home and he had all the things she didn’t; ice cream, what sometimes felt like a cabinet full of water bottles and the comfiest bed known to man.

‘So now I’m dying,’ she concluded.

Derek had learnt very early on in their acquaintance that asking her how she felt when he could smell the pain, the blood and see her bad temper wasn't a good idea. To begin with he’d left her alone with her pain. Then, once they’d established their habit of saving each others life and slowly become friends, he'd started coming around and let her yell at him and that had slowly morphed into him bringing her hot water bottles, cups of tea and watching all manner of movies he’d kind of hated. 

The first time he'd done the pain-drain - when she'd forgotten to restock her ibuprofen supply - she'd practically cried in relief and sagged against him as the pain vanished. Derek had looked more than vaguely terrified by her reaction but he hadn't pushed her away. Instead he'd pulled her more fully onto her bed and let her fall into a pain-free sleep. He'd still been there when she'd woken up, the same vaguely terrified - maybe even fond - expression on his face. 

After that, whenever Stiles had had a particularly painful period, Derek had been surprisingly easy to convince to do another pain-drain. The cuddling had just ended up being a surprising bonus that they hadn’t really talked about. 

‘I promise you only feel like you’re dying,’ Derek said, a small smile playing across his mouth. 

‘Because that makes me feel so much better,’ Stiles groaned, letting her head fall back onto the pillow. ‘And you’re a shitty boyfriend, finding my pain funny like that.’ She pulled the comforter closer so she could hug it tighter and feel sufficiently sorry for herself. 

‘I don’t find your pain funny,’ Derek said, hand resting on her hip. 

Stiles humphed but she relented slightly when his thumb slipped under her t-shirt and started rubbing small circles on her skin. ‘Well, I guess you did give me a key to your apartment and let me take refuge in your bed whenever I need to, so maybe you’re not all bad.’ And it turned out that Stiles took refuge in Derek’s bed a lot. It was, strangely enough, a very safe feeling place. 

‘Thanks,’ Derek said dryly, without stopping his ministrations. 

Stiles whimpered as the bed dipped even further, but she didn’t move very far because Derek was pressed up behind her, from shoulder to thigh. He leaned over and nosed behind her ear, pressing a series of kisses to her jaw. She sighed and let herself melt further into him as the heat from his body practically forced every muscle in her body to relax. 

‘Hey,' she whined, trying to hold on to the comforter as it was pulled down and away from her body. ‘Stop it, I want that.’ 

Derek kicked the comforter to the bottom of the bed, ignoring the glare she threw over her shoulder. ‘You’ll be too hot with me here too,’ he murmured. 

Stiles hummed. 

Derek dragged his lips along her jaw and slipped his hand from her hip to rest firmly on her abdomen. The pain faded and Stiles knew that if she looked down, the veins on his arm would be black. She shifted slightly and placed a hand on top of his, threading their fingers together and pressing his hand harder against her stomach. 

After a couple of minutes Derek stopped the pain-drain and started rubbing his thumb in small circles above her bellybutton and Stiles sighed in contentment. Everywhere that had hurt was warm; her back, her stomach and her thighs. The pain-drain, along with the industrial strength ibuprofen she’d taken straight after class, meant that most of the pain was nearly gone. 

‘Better?’ he asked quietly, his breath warm and comforting on the nape of her neck. 

Stiles twisted her shoulders so she could smile sleepily up at him. ‘Even my period pains are scared of you.’ 

Derek rolled his eyes. But there was definitely amusement in his eyes. 

‘What? I’m just saying. Ten minutes ago I was in agony.’ She snuggled into his embrace. ‘Now I’m toasty warm and happy.’ 

‘You’re ridiculous.’ He leaned forward and brushed his lips across hers. 

‘You say that like it’s a bad thing,’ she whispered against his mouth, eyes drifting shut.

‘No, it’s a normal thing.’

‘You know, any other day I’d have something appropriately sarcastic to say about that, but honestly, right now, I really don’t have the brain capacity to do much of anything.’ 

Derek hugged her closer. ‘Then it’s a good thing you’re staying right here.’ 

‘Hey, could you grab my phone off the bedside table and text my dad, tell him I’m here before he has a freakout? That would be awesome.’ 

It still blew her mind that her dad was okay with the whole Derek thing. Well, maybe not okay with it, but certainly not against it. Although it had probably helped that Stiles had assured him - in a highly embarrassing conversation that she never wanted to repeat - that there was no way she was sex ready (And yes, much to the horror of everyone involved, that was the phrase she’d used). Plus, Derek had been all kinds of uncomfortable about her age, although he was slightly better having just helped her celebrate her 18th. But really, it was no hardship to hold off until they were both ready. She still got to kiss and touch him and just get to know the him that existed when he didn’t have his back to the wall, convinced that everyone and everything was out to get him. 

‘Have your fingers stopped working?’ Derek asked, but Stiles could feel him roll and stretch for her phone, curling back around her once he had it, knees slotting in behind hers. 

She turned her head rubbed her cheek against his arm before pressing a kiss to his bicep. ‘I don’t think anything I write would be all that intelligible.’

Derek snorted. ‘None of your texts are intelligible.’ 

‘Rude. But fair.’ She turned enough that she could see Derek easily. ‘I think you should kiss me to say sorry.’ 

‘That’s a terrible argument,’ Derek told her, fingers tapping away as he composed a text that Dad would know wasn’t written by her because of the lack of text speak.

‘But you’re still going to kiss me.’

‘’But not because of that argument,’ he said, dropping the phone on the bed next to her. 

‘Still kissing me,’ she sing-songed. 

‘I’m seriously reconsidering that decision.’ 

‘You like kissing me.’ On her lips, her nose, her ears, her jaw, her neck, her collarbone, all the way down to the hip that she was considering getting his triskelion tattooed on. He just really liked kissing and touching her. 

‘I do,’ Derek agreed, lips brushing hers, teasingly. 

It took a couple of tries, but Stiles was eventually able to wind an arm around Derek’s neck and get him to kiss her like she wanted. It was deep, slow and lazy, and Stiles loved it. 

A few minutes, or maybe a few hours, later - time went all kinds of wonky when she kissed Derek - Derek pulled away. Breathing heavily, he rested his forehead against hers. 

‘You should sleep and then we can eat,’ Derek murmured. 

Stiles wrinkled her nose. ‘Actually, I think I have to go to the bathroom. I feel icky.’

Derek let go of her without protest, and Stiles made it to the edge of the bed with no embarrassing leakage, which she felt was a minor miracle. A pad change later and she was crawling back onto the bed and into Derek’s embrace, stealing a kiss as she did. 

Collapsing against him, she snuggled closer, going boneless when he pulled her tight against him. 

‘We can try that ‘sleep and then eat’ thing you were talking about, now,’ she said sleepily. ‘I approve of that plan.’

Derek snorted softly. ‘I’ll wake you in a while then.’

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on Tumblr at ionaonie.tumblr.com


End file.
